41. You never ask me
41
YOU NEVER ASK ME
Colin was probably having an out-of-body experience. If he wasn’t, then why was he looking at his own face? Oh God, don’t say he was having another of those fucking nightmares about his disembodied head again. That would just about be the last bloody straw. He closed his eyes then opened just one. Yes, it was him, with one eye open and one closed. He was about to let out a loud scream when he realised that he was looking into a mirror. A dirty, grungy, greenish mirror. He was lying in front of it on something soft, verdant and damp. And a big fat slug was slowly progressing along his arm. He shook the slug off and sat up. Where was he? A garden. Yes, definitely someone’s garden. But whose? Not Netta’s or Frank’s, although it did look strangely familiar.
‘Adam, there’s someone at the bottom of the garden.’ Shit the bed, it was his neighbour, Jude. He was next door to his own house. ‘Colin. Is that you? Adam, I think it’s Colin.’
Adam and Jude. Not his type of people but useful to have as friends. Although they didn’t look too friendly right now. Perhaps they’d gone over to the dark side and cosied up to Arianne. Before they could reach him, Colin scrambled over the fence and dropped into the thorny bushes that formed a border between the back of their houses and a small park. He picked himself up and scarpered as fast as he could.
It wasn’t long before the pain in his side forced him to stop running and find a bench to catch his breath. He was such a mess these days, although two days of drinking and sleeping rough didn’t help. The bench was in a play area. He used to bring Liza and Will here when they were small. He’d push them on the swings and chat to the other parents. Nice people like him. Decent people. That’s how he saw himself then. He didn’t know how he saw himself now. He was undefinable.
There was a half-empty bottle of wine underneath the bench. He picked it up. Malbec. He was quite partial to a Malbec. All the same, what kind of person would leave that sort of thing in a kiddies’ play area? What kind of thoughtless monster? A flash of recall made him realise he was that monster. He’d come here last night, after drinking in places his old self didn’t even know existed. Awful places, but at least no one would think to go looking for him there. If they were looking. His battery was dead so he had no idea. For all he knew they could be glad to see the back of him. Most of them would definitely be glad to see the back of him. Except Liza. She wouldn’t give up on him.
Colin took a swig from the bottle. How he’d ended up in his neighbours’ garden was anybody’s guess. His memory was mostly a blank since that call with Netta on Wednesday. The events before then were clear. The discussion with Ursula, her walking away from him. He remembered leaving the allotment and pounding the streets for hours without any real thought to where he was going. He’d ended up in Cannon Hill Park sitting by the lake, going over Ursula’s assessment of her husband and him: “What matters is what he did. The same applies to you.” Then he’d recalled what Arthur had said about Netta not wanting to live and a terrible, terrible thought had crossed his mind. What if these people were right? What if it really didn’t matter how others had treated you? What if all that mattered was your own actions?
The call to Netta had set his mind at rest a little. She hadn’t tried to kill herself, only thought about it. Well we could all say that, couldn’t we? He’d been on his way back to hers when he’d phoned, but the other things she’d said about the way he’d treated her had sent him into another tailspin. The last thing he remembered was settling in with a large gin and tonic somewhere in the back streets of Balsall Heath, assuring himself that she’d been exaggerating to make him feel bad. Just how many he’d had after that was way beyond his recall. And yet no matter how much he drank, there was still that nagging doubt in the back of his head that wouldn’t go away. Because even though he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing, Colin couldn’t forget what he’d been thinking, over and over again. All that really matters is what you’ve done.
He put the bottle to his lips again and the Malbec slid down his throat, into his otherwise empty belly. But he’d glugged it too quickly and half of it came back up again with a choking cough. He wiped the red trickles from his chin, the accountant in him mentally clocking up the waste percentage.
A young woman was watching him from the other side of the playground. She had a small child with her but she wouldn’t let go of its hand. She was wary. Of him. She was wary of him. Suddenly shamed by his appearance and his behaviour, he stood up and bowed his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m not myself today.’
He found a bin on Moseley Road to leave the wine bottle in. No doubt one of the alckies that hung around the green would find it. Good luck to them if they did. They might as well kill their livers with something decent for a change.
A bus that took him in the direction of Netta’s house turned up as he passed the stop. He’d get that and walk the rest of the way. With any luck, they’d all be out by the time he arrived.
Colin was just a few streets away from Netta’s. It had taken him longer than expected to get here because he’d been forced to leave the bus early on account of the other passengers turning their noses up at him. Yes, he was aware that owing to the fact he hadn’t washed for two days and had slept on a bed of compost, he smelled. But did people have to be so rude? To make matters worse, the sun was a bastard this morning and he was sweating profusely.
Just in time, he spotted Frank’s car coming his way and dove behind a hedge. At least he’d dodged having to face his ex-wife’s current lover. Assuming she hadn’t run off with Chambers yet.
He managed to get safely inside Frank’s house without further incident. First of all he’d have a coffee to sober up. Then he’d get cleaned up and go round to finish that last patch of allotment. He wasn’t really in a fit state to do it but it felt important that he finished it off himself. And Ursula might be there. She might even talk to him if she saw him doing something good.
He made the coffee and drank it so quickly he nearly scalded his throat. He tipped back a glass of water, but his thirst seemed to know no ends and his need for more coffee became desperate.
He heard the front door reopening and Liza appeared in the hallway, her eyes blazing. ‘Dad, what the fuck? We’ve been searching everywhere for you. We looked all over the place yesterday and people are still out looking this morning. Where have you been?’
‘Here and there. I needed some space.’
‘To do what exactly? Drink yourself stupid and get into fights?’
‘I haven’t been in any fights.’ Not as far as he could remember anyway.
‘So what are those new marks on your face?’
He touched the fresh bumps and scratches. He was sure he’d remember if he’d had a fight. There was blood on his fingers. Of course. It was his emergency escape from Adam and Jude’s. ‘I got caught up in a bush with sharp thorns.’
He held out his arms to her and she came closer then stopped and covered her nose and mouth. ‘Oh my God, you stink so much.’
‘Oh, you don’t like my new image?’ It was good that he was making light of it. It was important to retain a sense of humour.
She moved to the other side of the kitchen. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it’s gone far enough.’
‘I’m just going through a hard time, darling. I’ll be all right soon.’
‘I’m not talking about all of this.’ She waved her hands at him. ‘I’m talking about the things you said to that lady at the allotment. Ursula.’
‘Ursula? What has she said?’
‘Enough.’
‘It’s not true.’
Liza tutted. ‘That’s you all over isn’t it, Dad? You don’t even know what she said and you’re already denying it.’
‘No, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, darling. I tried to tell her about the things that happened between your mum and me but she didn’t understand.’
‘Okay, so what did you tell her?’
‘I said I’d done bad things. I tried to explain the extenuating circumstances.’
‘Wait. Extenuating circumstances? What are you talking about?’
‘Your mum and Chambers. Their affair.’
Liza walked away. For a minute, Colin thought she was leaving but then she came back. ‘Nothing, I repeat, nothing that mum and Doogie did excused the way you treated her. Or us.’
‘Us?’
‘Yes, us. Me and Will. You used us to get to her. You forced us to take sides.’
‘No, darling, no. I asked your mum to leave because she’d broken us up. We talked about it, the three of us. We agreed. You were just a kid. You’re misremembering.’
Liza ran at him and pushed him. The shock and the force of it sent Colin reeling backwards. ‘Will you listen to yourself? You didn’t ask her to leave, you ordered her to. In the middle of a crowded fucking restaurant. And then you made out that we all wanted it. You hadn’t even told us but you made us choose between you and her.’
No she was wrong. She was wrong. She was missing the point. ‘All right, yes I did tell her to go, but I did it for us. For you, me and Will.’
She shook her head slowly. ‘You did it so you could move Arianne in. You did it for yourself. We were just the excuse you pretended to have. All that money you stole from Mum? You stole it for yourself. And don’t pretend it wasn’t theft. It doesn’t matter which way you try to fake news it, you took money from her that wasn’t yours to take. I don’t blame Will for despising you.’
‘He, he despises me?’
She laughed. It was angry and mean and not in the least bit like his lovely, sweet daughter. ‘That’s all you care about, isn’t it? What Will thinks of you. You never ask me what I think of you.’
‘I don’t need to, I’ve seen your painting of me.’
She stared at him, her disgust so very, very obvious. ‘I hated you that night you made us your accomplices. I hated you both for different reasons, but I stuck with you because I had to stick with someone. Mum and me are cool now. But you, Dad. You. I have tried so hard with you but you’re just so fucking selfish. So I’m giving up on you. Frank’s been a better dad to me than you’ve ever been. I’ve only known Doogie a few weeks and he’s already beaten you into third place. And just so’s you know. Yes, that portrait is exactly how I see you. Nasty, cruel, mean, deceitful, evil and absolutely fucking pathetic.’